Transferred: Amy's POV
by AmyCoolz
Summary: 2 American witches are sent to Hogwarts as news of Voldmort's return turns Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore into the laughing stocks of the wizarding world. Can they help or will their antics just get everyone into even more trouble? Set in book 5.
1. Prologue

**Amycoolz's A/N: **Woot! This is so cool! I can't believe it! Us, in a story, with all the characters from Harry Potter! Oh, since Syl will probably forget, we do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does… Which really sucks, because this is such a good story so far… Even though all we've got are notes… Trust me, though, we were up 'til like, 1 in the morning, talking for 4 hours, just about this story… So you'd better enjoy it! Lol

**StarTheHedgeCat's A/N:** As Amy said, yes, this is a self-insertion. But we've tried – and succeeded – in making it different from most other ones. Meaning, it's not stupid and we're not Mary Sues (though when we started, it kinda is… So… yeah. As it continues, it gets smarter. Especially since we've read the books thoroughly (some would say we're obsessed, lol) and, more importantly, we use the book's heavily. As a matter of fact, we've created a joint account (WeBeOSM) in order to post the book itself with our little additions tucked within.

The version you're currently reading is Amy's and the prologue will be the same in all three versions. My POV is posted in my own account (StarTheHedgeCat) and I suggest you read all three, but it isn't really a requirement.

Anyway, enjoy!

*

_Prologue_

_Opulent_

As her head bopped side to side in time with Christina Aguilera's music, her mechanical pencil flitted across the page while no hand touched it. A slim, wooden stick was held loosely in her right. Her thick, wavy blonde hair rained down her back, flicking with each movement.

An elderly woman plucked the stick from the teen's fingers and the music stopped. "Hey!" she squealed, then blinked. "Hey, there, Mrs. Brown. What's up?"

The woman sighed, shaking her head. "How many times to I have to tell you, Sylvia, that music spells are _not_ allowed in my class?"

"I was taking notes!" was her defense. "See?"

"Yes, I see. Are you aware that 'you' have written on the same line six separate times?" Mrs. Brown lifted Sylvia's paper off the desk to show her, ignoring the snickers and muffled laughter the way only experienced teachers could.

Sylvia smiled and shrugged, thinking quickly. "I figured I'd just use a spell to split them up later, you know? 'Cause this doesn't waste paper. Save the trees and all that."

"I see. Well, why don't you do that spell tonight in de-"

At that moment she was interrupted by the loudspeaker. "Will Sylvia Walka and Amy Schwartz please report to the principal's office immediately?"

Sylvia snatched her wand, flicked it, and had everything packed in her backpack. "Sorry, Mrs. Brown. Gotta go." She hopped up and ran out of the room.

_Meanwhile…_

She was slumped in her chair, bored. She half-wished she had her friends in this class, but she was also glad they weren't around to distract her. She hadn't taken Advanced Herbology to get sidetracked and fail, after all. But having to take notes about a plant before you could even see it was "really friggin' gay," as she liked to say.

When she noticed Michelle Medford whispering to her cronies and giving her dirty looks, she snarled and pinned Michelle with a glare that had her turning to face the teacher.

But the girl kept glaring and sneering, just in case Michelle – She hated that girl's guts! – looked back at her.

Unfortunately, she didn't noticed when the teacher looked at her. "Amy, is there a problem?"

She jolted just enough to rustle her dyed black, short straight hair, which was parted on the left side and flipped over to the right. "No, Ms. McCaine," she droned.

"Then if you simply can't keep your eyes off Michelle's back, perhaps we should move her right behind you."

At that threat, Amy scoffed. "Hell no."

"Excuse me? I suppose you would prefer de-"

At that moment she was interrupted by the loudspeaker. "Will Sylvia Walka and Amy Schwartz please report to the principal's office immediately?"

Rather than hop to it, Amy packed her things the "Muggle" way and sent her teacher a rather sassy salute. "See you later, Ms. McCaine," she said, and sauntered from the room.

By the time she was out, Sylvia, whose Transfiguration class was at the opposite end of the long hall, was just zipping past. "Hey!"

The blonde stopped and turned, beaming. "Hi!" She started to bounce, eager to be off.

For Amy, beaming plus bouncing usually equaled huge annoyance, but Sylvia was an exception. The girl was damned entertaining and knew how to chill when it was required. Amy and Sylvia were, however different, kindred spirits and best friends.

"Why were you running? You hate running."

More beaming. "I was about to get detention, so I bolted."

"So was I, but why let them know you're scared?" They started to walk. "You know why we're going to Mrs. Jones' room?" Mrs. Jones was, of course, the principal.

Sylvia shook her head. "I don't know, but who cares? I got out of detention!" Then she sobered. "My parents would be _pissed_ if I got detention, especially this close to the end of the year."

"Yeah, man, we only have two more weeks left!"

"Yeah… And then we only have two more years of school. I can't wait!" They laughed and chattered about how boring all these notes were. The only class where wands were used daily was their Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and 5th years couldn't take that one. It flat out sucked.

Finally, they arrived at the main office and were led to the principal's room by the dwarf receptionist. Sylvia started to knock, but Amy shoved inside and plopped in one of the chairs. "We're here."

Sylvia smiled and walked in more sedately. Her mother was closely connected with all of the administrators, so she had to really behave herself or she was screwed. "Hello, Mrs. Jones."

"Hello Sylvia, Amy," she said, a nod for each of them. "Please, sit down."

"Thank you," Sylvia replied politely and sat delicately in the chair. Amy only shifted into a more comfortable position, her legs draped over the arm.

"I'm sure you're both wondering why you're here." Sylvia nodded; Amy looked bored. "Well, I just wanted to inform you girls of something very important. I've already spoken to your parents, and they were thrilled that the two of you were chosen out of all the girls here at Opulent: School of Witchcraft."

Now Amy was alert; she sat up straight in her chair, nearly knocking over a pen holder on the principal's desk. "You talked to our parents?!"

Used to hearing that, Sylvia queried, "Chosen for what?"

"A transfer program that Mrs. Wagner has just brought to my attention. If the two of you would simply sign the agreement form I can give you a list of schools to choose from."  
"A… a transfer program?" Having spent her entire life moving around due to her father's position with the American Ministry of Magic, Sylvia detested the word "transfer." As Head Muggle-Watcher, her father had to travel the country, seeing how Muggles live in, created, changed, and used their environment. As a result, his family of four had seen nearly all fifty states at some point.

"You mean we get to go to another school?!" Amy, whose father was a beater for the American Quidditch team, had hardly ever left New York her entire life. Her father, however, would occasionally leave the country to play against other teams for up to a week at a time. Amy would kill to get out of the country.

"Yes, that's right. For the entirety of next year you shall become students at a completely new school. And if you enjoy it, you can stay at that school until you complete its curriculum."

"Will the school be out of the state or out of the country?" Sylvia inquired.

"Well, now, that's the surprise. Now, please girls, sign here." After exchanging glances, they took the pens Mrs. Jones sent out and signed the dotted line. The contract rolled up and then unrolled a few seconds later all on its own. "All right, ladies, let's see where you can go."

She looked at the page, her smile dimming somewhat. "It would appear that only two schools are accepting transfer students next year, and the one in Spain is an all-boys school."

"Okay, so what's the other one?" The final bell was about to ring and Amy was ready to go home.

"Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Sylvia forgot all about her calm, polite demeanor and leapt to her feet. "A co-ed school?! Seriously?!" It had been years since she'd been to one!

Amy's jaw dropped. "No way, man! That's friggin' awesome!" She'd _never_ been to one.

They began peppering Mrs. Jones with questions. "Where's Hogwarts? England? Awesome! Are the plane tickets going to cost us? Can we just use magic to get there? Floo powder? Okay! When are we leaving? In July?! That's like, two months away! Where will we stay? A non-Muggle hotel? All right, fine. How will we get our school supplies? They're sent to us?! Frickin' sweet! Can we brag about this? Aww! Why not? Well, duh! They're supposed to be jealous!"

The bell rang and they bolted, crazy with excitement. In two months they were going to England and then to a co-ed magic school! They looked at each other, grinning identical evil grins. "This is so friggin' awesome!"


	2. Addled Americans

_Chapter 1_

_Addled Americans_

With a wave to her parents and younger brother, Sylvia took a step towards the fireplace. "Frizzion Inn!" she shouted and was gone.

I would have followed suit, but my mother took the opportunity to take my arm. "Now, Amy, I want you to behave yourself over there. Not only are you representing Opulent: School of Witchcraft, but you are also a representative of our family and our nation."

She kept going on and on about it, but I just tuned her out. I already knew the friggin' speech by heart anyway. This was _not_ the first time she saw fit to bother me with it.

Finally my dad came forward, a huge, lopsided grin on his face. When he crushed me close, I couldn't help but laugh. "Make sure you kill anyone who gets in your way," he whispered.

I was about to nod, but my mother had heard him. "Do not fill her head with things like that! She may actually listen! Now, Amy, I do not want to receive any letters saying you killed anyone, do you understand me?"

The good mood that my dad had instilled in me evaporated. "Yeah, whatever! I'm so friggin' glad I don't have to deal with this crap for the next few months! Geez!" I spun on my heel, pissed off. "Frizzion Inn!" I screamed and stepped into the green flame.

I appeared behind Sylvia just as she was tying her hair back into a loose ponytail. "What took you?" she asked.

"My stupid mom!" I announced. "She was nagging me about behaving myself and crap."

Her smile was sympathetic. "Again?"

"Yeah! Again!" My blue-brown eyes, which are _not_ hazel, flickered in annoyance.

"Just think, Ames, we're an entire ocean away."

This thought had an evil smile sliding over my features. "Yeah, thank God."

Laughing, Sylvia walked up to the front desk. The clerk was slack-jawed and wide-eyed, I noticed. Since Sylvia was wearing jeans she had cut up to just below the knee and an oversized T-shirt that read "PARENTAL ADVISORY: I am Loud." - which was perfectly true for her – and I was wearing tattered jeans and a Yankees T-shirt, it now appeared that two foreign teenage Muggles had figured out how to use Floo Powder. I snorted. If the guy thought that, he was some kind of idiot.

"Hey there," I heard her say. "I'm Sylvia Walka and this is Amy Schwartz. Our room is-" she checked the back of her hand, where I knew she wrote all important details - "212, second floor. Our stuff was already sent."

"Ah." After a quick check of his references (probably all relieved because we were witches), he nodded. "You are the transfer witches, correct?"

"You bet."

"No, miss, I do not. Gambling is strictly prohibited on the premises."

It took both of us a moment to realize he was being perfectly serious. After rolling our eyes, we each took a key from the clerk and went into the elevator.

The tiny man inside asked where we were off to and, after answering, we were almost instantaneously at our room. "Cool." I stepped off first while Sylvia stayed behind, probably to tip the dwarf. I didn't care about that, especially when something important caught my notice. I couldn't see a single suitcase. "Where's all the stuff?" I demanded once the elevator whisked away.

"Check the drawers and stuff," she suggested with a yawn.

I did so. When I flung the closet open, my jaw dropped. "Holy crap, man, everything's perfect!"

"Okay." I turned to see her flop onto the closest bed and use magic to change into her pj's.

Not five minutes later there was an incessant tapping on the window. Sylvia only grumbled, half asleep, so I went over to open the window for the brown owl that had appeared. An envelope landed on Sylvia's stomach and she opened it. I guess the letter inside was addressed to us both, as she began to read it aloud.

_To Ms. Walka and Amy Schwartz,_

_ While any magic up to this point has been tolerated and ignored, it is the Ministry's duty to inform you girls that students of Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry are forbidden to perform spells during the summer months._

"That's gay," I interrupted. Back home we could use magic any damn time we wanted to!

"Friggin' retarded British people," she agreed, than continued.

_If the two of you do not comply with these rules, you will both be banned from Hogwarts and sent back home._

_ Good luck and enjoy your stay in Great Britain._

She shoved the letter back in the envelope, put a few Knuts in the bag attached to the owl's leg, and dropped the envelope on the floor. "So far, I don't like Hogwarts."

I sneered at the owl as it flew off. "Yeah, me neither."

_A week later…_

"You know, I would kill for a cheeseburger right about now," Sylvia said from behind me.

We had been walking along Diagon Alley, buying the stuff on our Hogwarts list, for nearly two hours. My feet hurt and I was starving. "Yeah, me too… Some McDonald's or something would be good."

"Seriously!" she squealed. "Let's dump this crap at the hotel and go to the Muggle side of town. There's gotta be a place where they sell burgers!"

I nodded fervently. "My dad said he'd leave my car right outside the bar Diagon Alley's connected to."

"Pub," she corrected. "And it's an inn called the Leaky Cauldron."

"Whatever, I don't give a crap." I really didn't, so I walked off, dragging my cauldron full of crap behind me. Being able to use magic to help carry all of this would have been really great. Hogwarts was gay!

_Later…_

An hour had passed and my stomach hurt, I was so hungry. Added to that I was in a pissy mood. When Sylvia told me to pull over at a dilapidated building with a neon sign, I immediately did so. "Look! A place like that _has_ to sell burgers!" she chirped.

We went inside, eager for some decent, or at least edible, food. The maitre-de looked snobby and sniffed disapprovingly. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Uh… We're hungry…" Sylvia said.

I, not really caring that the guy was a snob, said, "Yeah, where are the friggin' burgers?"

"Burgers?" The maitre-de looked down his severely straight nose at us. "We do not serve burgers."

This news served only to infuriate me. "Well, what the hell do you serve?"

"Only the finest-"

"Yeah, Amy, let's just go," Sylvia interrupted, probably to keep me from cursing this guy out.

So we left and I drove around for what seemed like hours before we found ourselves on Privet Drive. Both of us were nearly dieing of starvation – or felt like we were – and there was still no sign of the familiar golden arches. We were furious.

"Where. Are. Thefuckingburgers?!" I screamed, frustrated beyond measure.

Sylvia sighed, then gestured with her hand. "Pull into this random driveway, Amy. We'll ask the, hopefully, nice people inside."

We got out of the car when I did and walked up to the door. Only to ensure that someone would answer the door we knocked and rang the doorbell incessantly. After a few seconds, a rather thin boy with shaggy, unkempt black hair and glasses answered. I didn't think he was all that good looking, but at least he wasn't hideous.

With a grin, Sylvia immediately began interrogating him. "Dude, do you know where the burgers are?"

Starving as I had never been before, I could not contain myself. "Wherearethefuckin'burgers?!"

At this outburst, the boy looked rather confused and a bit overwhelmed by our sudden appearances and accents. "What are you talking about?"

Sylvia cocked her head, apparently confused. I thought it was rather obvious what we were talking about. Was this guy stupid?

"You know, food?"

"Yeah! Sustenance!" I chimed in.

Sylvia grinned again. "The preserver of life!"

"¡La comida!" I shouted, pointing a finger into the air. Having to take two languages at our old school, Opulent, I had chosen Spanish and was damn good at it, I thought. Sylvia had taken, bleh, French. I didn't understand what the big attraction was, but whatever.

In unison we said, "FOOOOD!!"

Finally, the message seemed to get through to the boy. "Um, I'm not sure where the nearest fast food restaurant is…" He brushed back thick, dark bangs and a lightning bolt scar just over his eye caught my attention. I immediately wanted to ask how he had gotten it. Was he trying to kill someone? Bar fight? Schoolyard scuffle? What? "My uncle or aunt might know…" he told us.

"What might they know, Harry?" A rather large, round boy about the same age took a look at us and shoved the first boy - Harry apparently - out of the way. "Well, hello there," he greeted in what I was sure he thought of as a sexy leer. I thought of it as a pig trying to look cool.

Sylvia and I exchanged looks, deciding that not only was this guy fat and ugly but he was one heck of an ass. But still, we asked, "Do you know where the burgers are?"

Now he looked confused. "What?"

"You know, food?" Sylvia asked again

Picking up on her deliberate repetition, I said, "Yeah! Sustenance!"

"The preserver of life!" she shouted.

"¡La comida!"

Once again we said "FOOOOD!!" as one voice.

The fat boy still looked quite confused, but he looked over his shoulder and called out, "Mum! When do we eat?"

"Very soon, Duddykins!" a shrill, feminine voice screeched.

"Can these girls eat with us? They've got funny accents."

"We do?" Sylvia wondered.

"The hell we do!" I denied. Just who did this ass think he was?!

An almost identical copy of the fat boy appeared behind him. Sylvia and I had to bite our lips to keep from laughing aloud. "Where are you from?" he queried.

Sylvia and I grinned identical evil grins, deciding that this was the perfect moment to announce our rehearsed speech. "South of Canada!" she began.

"North of Mexico!" I added.

"The United friggin' States of North America!" we pealed off together.

"Drop the friggin'-" I practically sang.

"-And leave out the North!" Sylvia finished.

"Hi!" We burst out laughing, glad that minutes of practice had paid off.

The fat man, the fat boy's father and Harry's assumed uncle, peered at us through narrowed eyes. I did not get why he was so damn suspicious. I mean, just because we were random people did not mean this guy shouldn't trust us!

But the fat boy had no such suspicions. "Dad, can these foreigners eat with us?" "We're not foreign…" I grumbled, insulted.

_Soon…_

As the British family had decided to allow us to join them for dinner, we were side-by-side at the table, Petunia next to me, then Harry, then Vernon, then Dudley, then Sylvia. The food was pretty bland, and certainly not burgers, but it was kind of enjoyable. And when one is as hungry as I was at that moment, anything tasted good.

But I did notice something weird about this family. No one seemed to be talking to Harry and he apparently had a different surname, as Vernon or Dudley would often refer to him as "Potter" when they asked him to pass them something. The boy himself looked rather miserable and seemed eager to get away from the table.

As his eyes glazed over, I deduced that he was thinking about something else and scooted just a little closer to Sylvia to ask what she thought it was.

Harry stood, probably to clear his plate, and I nearly choked on my steak due to laughter. He had a pretty obvious boner and I felt it my duty to embarrass him. "Harry, we can see your wand."

But their reactions were rather different from what I had been expecting. Dudley began to choke, Vernon dropped the bit of steak back onto his plate with a shocked gasp, and Petunia slid to the floor in a faint.

Sylvia leaned over and whispered, "Who knew boners caused so much trouble?"

"Yeah," I agreed, "Brits are weird…"

_Soon…_

Immediately after Petunia had fainted, Harry had dragged us up the stairs to his room. "What did you mean by 'wand'?"

"You had a woodie at dinner." I announced, never one to mince words.

Beside me, Sylvia snorted out a laugh. "Just to be straight – no offense – were you thinking about a guy or a girl?"

I knew she had not meant anything rude by it, but I did. This could make my day! "Yeah, which one?"

To my amusement, Harry looked offended. "Just…Just some girl."

"Ooh, what was her name?" I glanced at Sylvia. Who cared about that?

"Her names's…Uh…Cho…"

"Cho? That's a weird name!" I grinned widely, glad that Sylvia had just given me a perfect opportunity. I had been itching for a dispute.

"No, it isn't!" Harry denied.

"Yeah, it is," I argued.

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

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"Is not!"

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"Oh, look, it's a birdie!" Sylvia suddenly squeaked, and I glanced over at where she was pointing. Harry had a snowy owl caught in a bird cage.

"Her name is Hedwig," Harry said, still glaring at me.

"That's a weird name, too," I taunted.

"No, it isn't!"

"Yes, it is!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

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"Harry, Petunia, Vernon, Dudley, Cho, and Hedwig," Sylvia said, listing each name off on her fingers. "Why aren't there any normal names in England? Like Ron or something?"

This seemed to catch Harry's interest. "That's my best friend's name!"

I could only scoff. "_You_ have friends?"

He immediately went on the defense. "We're mates from school!"

"Oh, cool. What school?" Sylvia chirped.

"Ho-" he started to say, than broke off, stuttering. "St. Brutus's."

"Oh, dude, I thought you were gonna say Hog-"

I smacked a hand over Sylvia's stupid big mouth. "Hogthorne! School of…Playful…Chickens!" I decided on the spot.

Harry studied us as if we were insane. "…Chickens…?"

"The playful kind!" Chuckling nervously, I started inching towards the door, dragging her with me. "Well, we'll see you if we get hungry again! Bye!"

Sylvia managed to tug my hand away and grinned. "Peace out!"

We ran down the stairs, not seeing any of the Dursleys about. Rather than waste time to search for them, we bolted outside and slammed into the car.

I gave Sylvia a pointed look once we were on the road. "'Peace out'?"


	3. When Teachers Attack

**Star the HedgeCat's A/N:**

All right!

Amy be back!

X3

And I got her to type up this chap and the next 9 in addition!

Lol

But this is the only one typed up right now, but w/e

Lol

Hope you like it!

Chapter 2 – _When Teachers Attack_

I pillowed my head in my arms, staring at the ceiling. Okay, so I couldn't _actually_ see it since it was dark, but whatever. I knew it was up there, so I was staring at it. "I've been thinking."

"Uh-oh." At Sylvia's snide comment, I sat up and threw my pillow at her. I couldn't see it hit her, but since I heard her grunt, I knew it had. I think she threw it back as I heard the sound of glass shattering to my right. "Well, hell…" she muttered.

Snorting out a laugh, I flicked on the lamp. "That was sad."

"Shut-up, it was dark!" The vase she'd broken, charmed by hotel staff, had already fixed itself. She leaned over and picked it up. "So what were you, ahem, 'thinking' about?"

I gave her my "evil glare." It was a narrowing of eyes and a sneer that plainly said, "I will kill you after I torture you." It tended to make everyone that noticed it quake with fear, but Sylvia could never help but laugh. It was that oddity – among others - that had first made me consider being her friend.

"Come on, Ames," she said through giggles, "just tell me."

"Okay, okay." How did she expect me to think about my thoughts when I was trying not to laugh?! "You know how our Hogwarts' supply lists came so early?"

I watched her scratch her head. I guess she had an itch. "Yeah, the attached letter said it was a week or two early," she said. "Why?"

"What if someone from the school is going to come meet us?"

She let out a long, loud belch and flicked out the light. "Whatever. Go to sleep."

"I'm serious!" I shouted, flicking it back on. This was not the reaction I had been expecting, but I had to give her kudos for that belch.

"So am I." Probably to avoid the light as best she could, she rolled over. "Turn that off."

Was she kidding? I was _not_ through talking to her! "No!"

"Argh…" She sat up once again. "Why would anybody from the school come visit us?"

"To see if we know enough magic and stuff!" Duh! I mean, come on, man! "Obviously!"

"But we're not allowed to use magic outside of school."

I rolled my eyes. "So? If we were told to use it by a teacher, we'd have to, right?"

She frowned, screwing her face up in such a strange way that I knew she was thinking. "What teacher would do that?"

"You would," I pointed out. She was planning on becoming a teacher anyway, so it made sense to me. I knew her well enough to know that even when she reached that goal her personality wouldn't change very much.

"Yeah, but how many me's will we ever find in the world?"

Now I had to disguise a pout by menacingly narrowing my eyes. "None, but still. Why else would we be singled out?"

"Uh… Maybe because we're American and have never been to Hogwarts before?"

I couldn't believe this! How dare she seem so damn smart and point out the flaw in my idea?! "You know what? You know what?! Shut-up!"

She smirked, and I would've cursed her had I been able to use magic. "'Night, Ames."

"Whatever," I grumbled, turning off the light.

_The Next Day…_

It was hot as Hell, was all I could think. Beads of sweat dripped from my bangs and all we were doing was walking down Diagon Alley searching for – what else? – food.

Sylvia tugged her shirt away from her skin for some relief. "It's hot."

"No friggin' duh," I grumbled. All this unbearable heat was pissing me off.

"I'm just saying! God!" I guess all this unbearable heat was pissing her off too.

"Eh! You two girls! Wait fer jes a minute!"

Sylvia squeaked at the booming voice coming from behind us. Next to her, I threw my hands into the air and cried, "I didn't steal that book! It wasn't me!" Okay, so I had stolen that book, but it was about so-called "forbidden" potions, and I friggin' _love_ potions! I turned and saw a very large, scruffy man passing through the crowd straight towards us. When he stopped just in front of us I couldn't help but grin.

"Holy crap! Are you a giant?"

Sylvia stared at me, but I ignored her. My attention was too focused on the face obscured by scraggly dark hair and an even scragglier beard. He was huge and it was cool.

"Naw, I'm only half-giant," he replied.

"Awesome!"

The beard twitched and I think he smiled. "Yeh think so, do yeh?" He let out something like a laugh. "Thanks. So would you two be the Americans boun' fer Hogwarts, then?"

"Yes," Sylvia whispered, then cleared her throat. "Yeah, that's us. I'm Sylvia and this is Amy."

"Yeah, so _who_ are _you_?" I said, sassily bopping my head.

"Me? Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

"Ha! I _knew_ someone from the school would be coming to talk to us!" Score one for Amy! Oh yeah! Go me! Go me!

"Well how would you be knowin' somethin' like tha'? It's no' common knowledge tha

You two're even comin' ter Hogwarts."

"Who does know?" she asked.

"The teachers o' course, the caretaker, an' me. The Ministry too, but tha's no' a surprise." He shifted his weight, which I'm sure was no easy task, and began ushering us in the direction of our hotel. "I've been instructed ta gi' yeh a few tests made up by the Hogwarts professors ta see if yeh can even go inta the righ' year."

"Which year would that be?"

"Why yer fifth, o' course. Don't yeh know anythin' 'bout Hogwarts?"

Thankfully, we had just arrived at the hotel, so we could avoid telling the half-giant no. I'd only angered a giant once before and I doubted it would be any smarter to anger half of one. Hagrid seemed to feel that the sun rose and fell on the boarding school.

"Righ' then. Up the stairs we go." As the man made his way up, Sylvia and I had to scramble to keep up with his four-to-five stair steps. As a result, we – who had gotten used to the elevator after a month – were doubled over, panting when we reached our floor.

"Now before we go ta yer room, I hafta tell yer that I got enchanted quills that yer got ta use. It prevents yeh from cheatin', they do."

"They're written tests?!" we squealed, I a lot less enthused than Sylvia.

"Well o' course they are! Yeh can't jes expect to be allowed ter use magic outside o' school, can you?"

"Not at all!" Sylvia chirped, hiding my annoyed grumble. Using magic was _exactly _what I'd been expecting. How dare this giant make me – who was a total hands-on type person – do a bunch of crappy written exams? This was going to be a pain.

_Several Hours Later…_

"Quills," Sylvia muttered. "Who the hell uses _quills_ anymore?"

"At least we didn't have to dip them in ink. That's better than pencils." People didn't have to get up and sharpen quills, after all.

She pouted on, ignoring me. She's a really stubborn person, to a fault actually. Hagrid had left, we'd had to make due with sandwiches in lieu of a decent restaurant meal, and it was just starting to get dark outside.

"Hey," she suddenly said, "let's go somewhere."

"Now?" Where could we go? Hadn't I just finished realizing that it was getting dark out?

"Now!" she exclaimed, a wide grin on her face.

It only took me a split-second to make my decision. "Okay!"

**AmyCoolz's A/N: **I just now typed this up at 10 am after Sylvia gave me all those crap papers she had in her folder… I guess she's never heard that you can _actually_ type them up on the computer… lol Yeah, we're having fun writing this out, so you'd better be enjoying it!

**Star the HedgeCat's A/N: **

Yayz!

Another chapter up and now we've even got Hagrid!!!

w00t!

X3

This story pwns…

Lol

Okay, so maybe some people may not think so at this moment in time, but STILL!

It pwns!

Next chap you'll learn something real interesting about me and Amy!

AND

Harry Pothead will return!

:3

We'll really be getting into the book when we return!

Hope you liked this one!

Byez!


	4. When Dementors Attack

_Chapter Three_

_When Dementors Attack_

On impulse, we decided to visit the only people we knew in Britain: The Dursleys and Harry Potter. But after a quick investigation of Number 4 we learned that Harry wasn't there. So we set off to explore, myself down Magnolia Road and Sylvia down Wisteria Walk.

As I started to walk off, scaly skin replaced my normal skin, my legs and arms disappeared and my eyes shifted to the sides of my small head. I became a green and black diamondback snake within two seconds. I figured that if I did see Harry, I would go tell Sylvia; and it wasn't often I got to be a snake, after all. You had to be all secretive and crap when you weren't a registered Anigmagus.

As I slithered down the road I heard the voices of a few teenage boys.

"Bye, Dud!" said one.

"See ya, Big D!" called the other.

_Big D? Dud?_ That _had_ to be Dudley Dursley! And if he didn't know where Harry was, I was gonna be pissed! I started towards the voices and nearly got stepped on by none other than Pothead as he went around the corner into Magnolia Crescent. Sylvia was this way, so I didn't see the harm in following at a nice, safe distance.

Dudley could be seen strolling along at his ease, humming tunelessly. "Hey, Big D!" Harry called. I hissed silently in lieu if a laugh. He sure was big!

Dudley turned. "Oh," he grunted. "It's you."

"How long have you been 'Big D' then?" said Harry.

"Shut it," snarled Dudley, turning away.

"Cool name," said Harry, grinning and falling into step beside his cousin. "But you'll always be 'Ickle Diddykins' to me."

…_What_? That was a _gay_ nickname…

"I said, SHUT IT!" said Dudley, whose ham-like hands had curled into fists.

"Don't the boys know that's what your mum calls you?" Oh, so no _wonder_ it was gay! I hissed out another laugh. I was so clever.

"Shut your face."

"You don't tell_ her_ to shut her face. What about 'Popkin' and 'Dinky Diddydums', can I use them then?" Hey, I could get to like Pothead! He was a smartass!

Dudley said nothing. The effort of keeping himself from hitting Harry seemed to demand all his self-control. I really wanted to see Pothead get punched in the face, and had no clue why Dudley was even bothering holding back. A big guy like him could squash the puny string bean that was Harry Potter.

"So who've you been beating up tonight?" Harry asked, his grin fading. "Another ten-year-old? I know you did Mark Evans two nights ago – "

"He was asking for it," snarled Dudley. A ten-year-old?! What a friggin' WIMP!

"Oh yeah?"

"He cheeked me." …What the heck did that mean? I bet Syl would've known… She's weird with stuff like that.

"Yeah? Did he say you look like a pig that's been taught to walk on its hind legs?" Harry inquired. "'Cause that's not cheek, Dud, that's true."

A muscle was twitching in Dudley's jaw. I guess "cheek" was an insult…

They turned right down the narrow alleyway which formed a shortcut between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. It was empty and much darker than the streets it linked because there were no streetlamps. Their footsteps were muffled between garage walls on one side and a high fence on the other. My slides were as silent as ever.

"Think you're a big man carrying that thing, don't you?" Dudley said after a few seconds.

"What thing?" Yeah! What thing?

"That - that thing you're hiding."

Harry grinned again. "Not as stupid as you look, are you, Dud?" I wasn't so sure… "But I s'pose, if you were, you wouldn't be able to walk and talk at the same time." Ohhhh!!! Nice!

Harry pulled out his wand and I did a double-take (as much as possible for a snake). Harry had a _wand_?! Oh my freakin' God! No way! He was a _wizard_! I saw Dudley look sideways at it.

"You're not allowed," the boy said at once. "I know you're not. You'd get expelled from that freak school you go to." Freak school? Oh, no, he didn't!

"How d'you know they haven't changed the rules, Big D?"

"They haven't," said Dudley, though he didn't sound completely convinced.

Harry laughed softly.

"You haven't got the guts to take me on without that thing, have you?" Dudley snarled.

"Whereas you just need four mates behind you before you can beat up a ten year old. You know that boxing title you keep banging on about? How old was your opponent? Seven? Eight?"

"He was sixteen, for your information," snarled Dudley, "and he was out cold for twenty minutes after I'd finished with him and he was twice as heavy as you. You just wait till I tell Dad you had that thing out–"

"Running to Daddy now, are you? Is his ickle boxing champ frightened of nasty Harry's wand?"

"Not this brave at night, are you?" sneered Dudley.

"This is night, Diddykins. That's what we call it when it goes all dark like this."

"I mean when you're in bed!" Dudley snarled. If I'd been human, I would've been doubled over in laughter. Not brave in bed! That was _great_, man!

He had stopped walking. Harry stopped too, staring at his cousin.

From the little I could see of Dudley's large face, he was wearing a strangely triumphant look.

"What d'you mean, I'm not brave when I'm in bed?" said Harry, completely nonplussed. "What am I supposed to be frightened of, pillows or something?"

"I heard you last night," said Dudley breathlessly. "Talking in your sleep._ Moaning_."

"What d'you mean?" Harry said again, but I was slinking off to find Sylvia. She wasn't going to believe that Pothead was a wizard!

I found her just as she was about to turn up Privet Drive. I let out a loud hiss. I hissed again when the blonde human glanced at me, raised my head, and gestured towards the dark alleyway.

When she looked there, we heard a harsh bark of laughter then a high-pitched, whimpering voice say, "'Don't kill Cedric! Don't kill Cedric!'" Dudley said something after that – I think – but I couldn't hear him.

As Sylvia and I moved closer, yellow fur sprang over her body, her ears changed shape and went to the top of her head, and she grew a slinky tail. In two steps time, I was slithering right next to a yellow-furred cat.

We turned down the alleyway and slunk against the fence, inching closer.

"'Dad!'" Dudley was saying in that annoyingly high voice. I could've punched him in the mouth. "'Help me, Dad! He's going to kill me, Dad! Boo-hoo!'"

"Shut-up," said Harry quietly. "Shut-up, Dudley, I'm warning you!"

I guess Dudley was still taunting Harry about not being brave in bed. Maybe this was what Pothead talked and moaned about in his sleep. And who was this Cedric guy? Harry's boyfriend?

"'Come and help me, Dad! Mum, come and help me! He's killed Cedric! Dad, help me! He's going to-' _Don't you point that thing at me!_"

Dudley backed into the alley wall. Harry was pointing his wand directly at Dudley's heart. Next to me, Sylvia's fur stood on end as she gave me a shocked look. _Yes, _I thought, _Pothead is wizard. Deal with it!_

Harry snarled, "Don't ever talk about that again. D'you understand me?"

"Point that thing somewhere else!"

"I said, _do you understand me_?"

"_Point it somewhere else!_"

Man, this was getting boring… They were just saying the same things over and over again…

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?!" Harry shouted.

"GET THAT THING AWAY FROM-"

Dudley gave an odd, shuddering gasp, as though he had been doused in icy water.

Sylvia flattened to the ground on a low growl. Something had happened to the night and I was almost sure it hadn't been me, her, or Harry who had done it.

The star-strewn indigo sky was suddenly pitch-black and lightless – the stars, the moon, the misty streetlamps at either end of the alley had vanished. The distant grumble of cars and the whisper of trees had gone. The balmy evening was suddenly piercingly, bitingly cold. I think so, anyway. I was only freezing for a second. _Woo-hoo for cold-bloodedness!_ We were surrounded by total, impenetrable, silent darkness, as though some giant hand had dropped a thick, icy mantle over the entire alleyway, blinding us.

I blinked rapidly, cursing my snake eyes (heh, gambling) because I couldn't see a damn thing. Sylvia gently placed a paw on my head, purring to let me know it was just her. But I thought it was kind of stupid of her to do. I mean, who else would it be.

Dudley's sudden voice had me jolting and hissing in surprise.

"W-what are you d-doing? St-stop it!" _God_, what a wimp!

"I'm not doing anything!" Harry stated. "Shut up and don't move!"

With Harry's words came a dreaded realization: If it wasn't him, me, or Sylvia causing this – I doubt we even had the power to – then it could only be one, terrible thing. I felt a horrible jolt of dread and hoped I wouldn't have to reveal myself to use my Patronus.

"I c-can't see! I've g-gone blind! I-" Oh yeah, retard, you went blind.

"I said shut up!"

"I'll t-tell Dad!" Dudley whispered. I wished the moron would shut his mouth. "W-where are you? What are you d-do-?"

"Will you shut up?" Harry hissed, "I'm trying to lis-"

But he fell silent, having heard just what I had, no doubt. There was something in the alleyway apart from ourselves, something that was drawing long, hoarse, rattling breaths.

"C-cut it out! Stop doing it! I'll h-hit you, I swear I will!" Yeah, empty threats. It would be hard to hit what he couldn't-

_WHAM!_

Dudley's fist made contact with the side of Harry's head while he was telling the stupid Muggle to shut up again. The force of the punch lifted Harry off the ground and sent his wand soaring from his hand.

Oh…So he _could_ hit what he couldn't see…

Meanwhile, Dudley was blundering away, sounding like he had hit the fence, and was stumbling around.

"DUDLEY, COME BACK! YOU'RE RUNNING RIGHT AT IT!"

How the hell could Pothead know that?! If I still couldn't see then he couldn't either! Dudley suddenly let out a horrible squealing yell, stopping dead in his tracks.

I wished I could see… This was so friggin' annoying!!!

"DUDLEY, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! WHATEVER YOU DO, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT!" It seemed as though Harry had dealt with these creatures – Dementors – before and was actually trying to help his worthless cousin. What a retard. I would _never_ help out a moron like Dudley Dursley! "Wand!" Harry muttered frantically. "Where's- wand- come on- _Lumos_!"

I don't know what had caused him to use that particular spell, but the wand was close enough to his fingers that the tip lit. Harry snatched up the stick, scrambled to his feet, and turned around. Sylvia ran over to me, still in a feline form. Cats are gay…

A towering, hooded figure was gliding smoothly towards him, hovering over the ground, no feet or face visible beneath its robes, sucking on the night as it came. I lifted my head, freaked – not that I would _ever_ have admitted it aloud – by the sight. Dementors were some scary sons-a-bitches.

Stumbling backwards, Harry raised his wand. _"Expecto patronum!"_

A silvery wisp of vapour shot from the tip of the wand and the Dementor slowed, but the spell hadn't worked properly; tripping over his own feet, Harry retreated further as the Dementor bore down upon him.

A pair of grey, slimy, scabbed hands slid from inside the Dementor's robes, reaching for him.

"_Expecto Patronum!_" Harry shouted.

Another wisp of silvery smoke, feebler than the last, drifted from the wand. _Damn it… Can't this idiot even _do _the frickin' spell correctly?_

Sylvia and I exchanged glances. If the boy couldn't pull off the spell, one of us would have to reveal ourselves and do it. Since I wasn't the registered Animagus, Sylvia was the logical choice. I'd be damned if I revealed myself to a dork who couldn't even pull off a Patronus.

And just as I was about to give up on him completely, Harry shouted, "_EXPECTO PATRONUM!_"

An enormous silver stag erupted from the tip of Harry's wand; its antlers caught the Dementor in the place where the heart should have been; it was thrown backward, weightless as darkness, and as the stag charged, the Dementor swooped away, batlike and defeated.

_Frickin' sweet!_ I thought._ Maybe Pothead isn't as stupid as I thought! _Beside me, Sylvia let out a delighted purr.

"THIS WAY!" Harry shouted at the stag. Wheeling around, he sprinted down the alleyway, holding the lit wand aloft. Sylvia and I scrambled after him as he shouted for his cousin, but when Harry started down the stairs after his cousin, we stayed at the top so as not to be seen.

Sylvia paced, observing the scene. I stayed still, prepared to hide in bushes should we be seen. Dudley was curled on the ground, his arms clamped over his face; a second Dementor was crouching low over him, gripping his wrists in its slimy hands, prizing them slowly, almost lovingly apart, lowering its hooded head toward Dudley's face as though about to kiss him… Which would have been really nasty.

"GET IT!" Harry bellowed, and with a rushing, roaring sound, the silver stag he had conjured came galloping past him. The Dementor's eyeless face was barely an inch from Dudley's when the silver antlers caught it; the thing was thrown up into the air and, like its fellow, it soared away and was absorbed into the darkness. The stag cantered to the end of the alleyway and dissolved into silver mist.

All I could think was this: _My Patronus is so much better than that…_

Moon, stars, and streetlamps burst back into life. Trees rustled in neighboring gardens and the mundane rumble of cars in Magnolia Crescent filled the air again. It was such an abrupt change that even I shuddered in reaction.

I narrowed my eyes and hissed, getting my mind on track. _What the heck are Dementors doing in a little crap-place like this? Shouldn't they be at Azkaban?_

I looked behind me when I heard loud, running footsteps behind me. While Harry turned, wand raised to face the newcomer, Sylvia and I found a hiding spot in nearby bushes.

Just as we were settled, an old, panting woman came into view. Her grizzled hair was escaping from its hairnet – it looked _so_ stupid – a clanking string shopping bag was swinging from her wrist, and her feet were halfway out of her tartan carpet slips. I saw Harry quickly hiding his wand away, but-

"Don't put it away, idiot boy!" she shrieked. "What if there are more of them around? Oh, I'm going to _kill_ Mundungus Fletcher!"


End file.
